THE FIVE TIMES RAYNA LEFT TEDDY
by soaper410
Summary: A one-shot for the August Fanfic Challenge


**Here is my answer to the August Fanfiction Challenge: Five Times Rayna Left Teddy. I would like to give a HUGE thank you to Shiny Jewel who beta'd this. THANK YOU SO MUCH!**

**THE FIVE TIMES RAYNA LEFT TEDDY**

**The first time I left Teddy was a Tuesday night.**

**March 2, 1999**

Teddy and I had gone to an after-hours event for the Tennessee Chamber of Commerce. His bank was the sponsor, and it's all Teddy had spoken about for weeks. There was shrimp cocktail and expensive champagne. Teddy wore a suit made by an Italian designer with impeccable tailoring.

The dress I had on was expensive but not a designer name. The fabric was hunter green with respectable sleeves and fabric that floated down to my knees. It lacked sequins and cutouts. My jewelry was simple, nothing like the ostentatious earrings and necklaces I usually wore on stage. I wasn't a celebrity or a musician; I was Teddy's girlfriend.

I spent most of the first hour tucked comfortably under Teddy's arm while he spoke of interest rates for small business owners and their comparison to the general market. He easily chatted with elder men in business suits and women in pencil skirts.

Then, a plump man with a gold name tag and thickly rimmed glasses approached me. His sweaty hands gave me a folded piece of paper. A note was scribbled on it with the name _Roger Collins_. The phone number underneath the name was the main line to the police station. I wandered down the hallway of the bank until I found an open office. I called the number that I'd memorized long ago, and asked for Lieutenant Collins. A moment later he answered and told me Deacon had been booked, the bond amount and the charges. He let me know Deacon had calmed down considerably and had been mumbling my name for the last hour.

I just sat there for a moment contemplating what to do. This event was important to Teddy, but I couldn't leave Deacon in jail overnight. Ever since Vince's accident, Deacon had a recurring dream of being stuck in a coffin. He didn't deal well with closed-in spaces, and the thought of him suffering just killed me. I walked back to the lobby and found Teddy, who was finishing up speaking with a restaurant owner about an expansion project.

I leaned over to tell Teddy something had come up. He knew that look; he'd seen it plenty of times before. It was my Deacon face. Previously, I'd cancelled dinner dates and been late to others. This, however, was the first time I'd ever left in the middle of something, an event that was clearly important to Teddy. He grimaced and pressed his lips together. I knew he wanted to say more but he swallowed his pride and kissed me softly. I promised him that I'd call as soon as I got home.

Two hours later I was half-naked, fucking Deacon on his leather couch.

That phone call never happened.

Instead, I showed up at Teddy's place around noon the next day. He said he didn't need to know what happened. I tried to apologize but he didn't seem to hear me. Instead he just promised me that he was still here and still wanted me in his life.

He said the same thing five-weeks later when I emerged from the bathroom holding a pregnancy test in my hand.

**The second time I left Teddy was in a movie theater.**

**November 18, 2005**

It was the big _Walk the Line_ premiere in Nashville. Everybody in Hollywood was calling Reese Witherspoon a "lock for an Oscar" for her portrayal of June Carter Cash. Joaquin Phoenix's profile covered Nashville billboards and every local was sporting a black shirt with the letters C-A-S-H on the front.

I was basically the only person in town who wasn't excited about the movie. The press ran story after story about the real life of Johnny and June. Many of the tabloid rags also ran stories about duos in country music. They had names like, "This Generation's Johnny & June" or "Country's Tortured Love Stories." Tammy Wynette and George Jones and Deacon and I were in practically every article as parallels. Cash, Jones, and Claybourne were all addicts. Carter, Wynette, and Jaymes were all pretty little country singers with hearts of gold. All had hit songs and long, complicated relationships. The articles were short and simple and put us all in neat-little fucked up packages.

It made me want to avoid the movie at all costs. Then, there was the television special I saw. Neither Deacon nor I were mentioned at all because we didn't end in love. Instead, Faith and Tim and Trish and Garth were compared to Johnny & June, which made me want to see the movie even less.

Despite my own feelings, Edgehill insisted I walk the "black carpet" and Teddy was actually excited about the movie, so Lisa watched the kids while we had a date-night at the Nashville premiere. I danced around the questions that included the name Deacon and smiled brightly when the journalists asked me questions I didn't want to answer. Finally, we went into the theater.

The love story itself wasn't nearly as familiar as I expected it to be. Johnny and June had marriages and kids and years of never seeing each other. In fact, the story on screen reflected very little of my own story with Deacon. Sure there was music and sexual undertones and touring, but this movie clearly wasn't my story or our story. For a while, I became absorbed with a downright entertaining movie.

Then, I saw the detox scene. There was this handsome man, a talented musician, strung out on pills. He was sprawled out on a small bed in a country retreat on the lake, shaking in his wife-beater. And there was this woman in love with the addict who was putting cold compresses on his head. Suddenly I felt like I couldn't breathe as the scene ended and Johnny Cash was over his addiction.

I excused myself, claiming I needed to use the restroom. I splashed cold water on my face and thought how nice it would be if Deacon's withdrawals lasted four minutes with fun music in the background.

I closed my eyes for a moment and could almost smell his sweat. That detox odor always smelled like musk and shit. He'd go through four or five shirts a day, sweating straight through them. He would shake so bad the whole bed would rattle. He'd only fall asleep when his body was so exhausted he had no other choice.

I had to spoon-feed him applesauce and hold a cup for him to gulp water. He'd normally throw it up an hour later, too sick to clean it up himself. He had to be helped to the bathroom. After hours of that, he would fall asleep for a couple of minutes before waking up screaming and shivering and sweating.

Suddenly I felt sick. I put my finger down my throat and gagged into the toilet bowl. It didn't make me feel any better.

I hate when this happens: when something out of the blue reminds me of those days. I bargained with God so many times, I lost track of everything I owed him.

I walk to the sink, turn the faucet on and muse that perhaps God and I are even now. Deacon had been clean and sober for nearly six years now, and all it took was me severing our romantic relationship and keeping his only child a secret from him.

I realized how long I'd been in the bathroom and quickly made my way to the door. Instead of going back towards the row of movies I felt myself go in the opposite direction. One of the boys working at the ticket line recognized me and asked if I was okay.

I nodded faintly, still swept up in things I wish I'd buried long ago. I asked the boy to let my husband know I was fine but not feeling well. Teddy carried cash in his wallet and the house was less than ten miles away, he could catch a cab. I got in our car and drove fifty-six miles straight without the radio on.

I got to McCalley Lane and took a left. It was late and dark, but I knew the way to Deacon's cabin like the back of my hand. It was thankfully dark and had no sign of Deacon's piece of shit car anywhere. I found myself wandering up to the porch. The faded wood of the deck looked just as I remembered. I felt my legs give way and quickly sat down in one of the old rocking chairs.

For a while, I just looked out over the still black water and listened to the sounds of the crickets and the frogs and the porch groaning as I rocked back and forth.

My lip trembled for a minute as I recalled Deacon carrying me across the threshold in celebration of catching my first fish. Then, my hands started shaking when I remembered how I had to lock him in the upstairs bathroom to avoid his wrath right before his second trip to rehab.

For every happy memory there was an equally bad one. The bad ones for the most part were newer, fresher. The happy ones, the older ones, seemed fainter somehow. Perhaps it was the time difference, or the movie, or the cold November night, making it easier to get lost in the dark memories. The smells and screams seemed to echo through the air. If I cried, I don't remember, but I did kick the bucket that was on the corner of the porch. It was full of rainwater and soaked the bottom of my jeans.

Then, just like that, the fog was gone and it felt as though it was time to go home. The word _home_ rang through my head for a moment sounding as though it was a foreign language.

Teddy was waiting up when I got there.

**The third time I left Teddy was when Bucky called.**

**June 19, 2009**

Teddy had planned our ten-year anniversary trip for nearly six months. We were going to a private house on an island in the British Virgin Islands. It was on six acres of land with a three member staff. Teddy planned the meals, rented a glass bottom boat for a day-trip, and had surprises I didn't even know about.

Tandy was taking care of the girls with plenty of babysitters and nannies scheduled to help.

We were supposed to leave the house no later than 9 am. Buck called me at 8:35. His voice told me something was wrong. Martha had gotten bad news at her oncology appointment. She'd been in remission for years but the cancer was back. Buck's voice was shaking and I zoned in and out while he used phrases like "four months" and "spread to her ovaries."

Bucky and Martha both insisted we go to our vacation but I couldn't do that. There was Teddy, standing there with plane tickets in one hand and the carry-on in another. Bucky needed me in a way he'd never needed me before. I apologized to Teddy and he did try to be understanding.

Then, I left the suitcase in the mudroom and headed to Buck's house. Over the next three months Teddy never brought up the missed anniversary or the fact that we had never really celebrated it at all. He held my hand during Martha's funeral and didn't complain when the guests came over our house afterwards. But Teddy did manage to bring it up every once awhile, especially when we had tiffs about sex or my schedule.

**The fourth time I left Teddy, it was because of ice cream.**

**February 2, 2011**

Maddie had been impossible all day. First, she back-talked me all the way to school. I knew she was still angry that my tour was starting and she couldn't go, but she wasn't going to sass me. Then, the school nurse called insisting Maddie was sick.

I knew Maddie was faking, but I picked up her up anyway. An hour into her being home, she had no fever, no symptoms and was asking for a bowl of ice cream. I told her she couldn't watch television and sent her upstairs.

Twenty minutes later, she was downstairs watching a sex scene on a soap opera. I reminded her that this program was too adult for her and she was supposed to be upstairs asleep. I caught her twice trying to open the fridge and take out the ice cream on her own. I forbid it. I forbid it twice. I even called Teddy on his cell phone to let him know what a pain Maddie had been.

But then, right before dinner, I found a bowl in the sink with half eaten chocolate chips. I nearly blew a gasket when I found Maddie. She had the audacity to smirk at me and inform me, "Dad told me I could have some."

Teddy rolled his eyes when I went to talk to him. He said Maddie was just acting out and I needed to calm down. I nearly stroked out. Daphne and I went out to eat Chinese by ourselves. I expected an apology from Maddie and Teddy when I came back. Instead, all I got was Maddie giving me a smirk and Teddy offering me advice on not fighting with Maddie. I fumed for a while as I got Daphne ready for bed and even managed to get through a few chapters of some romance novel I was reading.

But the more I thought about it, the angrier I got. So, I told Teddy to sleep in one of the guest bedrooms. He didn't take me seriously. So, in my t-shirt and sweatpants at 10:13 pm, I grabbed my pocketbook and headed out.

I drove to Tandy's house but noticed the strange car in the driveway and decided against it. Then, I thought about going to a hotel but I was afraid of being recognized and causing a stir of tabloid stories. Buck was out of town, Watty's place was nearly a damn hour of outside of Belle Meade. It left me with only two options: Daddy or Deacon.

I actually contemplated Deacon's but knew how angry Teddy would be at that. Besides, I wasn't prepared to walk up on him half naked with some girl half his age and twice my bra size. So I desperately drove into the gated community a little before eleven.

Daddy answered the door in his plaid pajamas with an odd look on his face. He opened the door wider, and I walked past him. As I shuffled along the hallway and up the stairs, Daddy asked if this was a temporary stay. I wanted to tell Daddy that Teddy and I were fine. But Daddy knew better. I was clearly desperate enough to come to stay with him. It had to be bad.

The next morning, I was up at dawn. I drove back home in the quiet light of day and jumped in the downstairs shower before either of the girls woke up. Teddy apologized later that afternoon but even now, two years later, that whole incident still makes me angry.

**The fifth time I left Teddy it was to go catch a show at the Bluebird**

**October 18, 2012**

I told Teddy that I was meeting Watty at the Bluebird. It wasn't a lie because knew Watty would be there. But I wasn't going for Watty; I was going to make things right with Deacon.

The casual way I mentioned it over dinner was almost scary. Teddy was preoccupied with letters to the editor and poll numbers and barely acknowledged I said anything. I didn't know whether it was the ease in which I lied to him, or his distraction with the mayoral race, but I enjoyed that there was no fight. I waited for Daphne to go to bed and then spent a few minutes talking to Maddie about her day.

I wore blue jeans, a yellow top and put a small braid in my hair. I got there a good twenty minutes after the show started and knew exactly what was about to happen.

Deacon and I always used sex and music to help us get over fights and the rough patches. Sex wasn't an option now, so instead he called me on stage. I figured we'd sing something older. Hell, when he whispered in my ear "No One" I actually smiled. I had missed singing our songs.

I held my own through the first verse. I was able to look out at the audience several times and smile. Then during the chorus, I caught his glare and couldn't look away. He couldn't look away from me either.

Perhaps it was the intimate setting, the fact we were at the Bluebird or that the last time we saw each other we got into a fight, but suddenly I was lost in him in a way that I hadn't been in years. After the song, he grabbed my hand and smiled at the audience. What they couldn't see was how he exhaled, as though he'd been holding his breath for years. He needed confirmation of my feelings and I'd given it to him in spades.

We did four more songs as the audience shouted our requests. The two of us got lost in "Call Your Daddy". We hadn't sung that song in years and I found myself remembering back to when I was seventeen, calling Lamar Wyatt to tell him that I'd be missing Christmas that year. Then, our show was over. His hand still covered mine while we spoke to Watty and a few other friends. We stayed a good thirty minutes, casually talking with colleagues, hiding our adjoined hands in my lap.

Then, he pulled me outside. Pulled is perhaps the wrong word. I'd gone with him willingly. Then I was in his SUV and suddenly I wished I hadn't come at all.

I got home and threw myself into Teddy's arms. I was ashamed of the way I behaved and scared of how close I'd come to crossing a line with Deacon. After we made love that night, I swore to myself that no matter what I was done leaving him. He deserved better than to be the one always waiting at home, always waiting for me to come back.


End file.
